


Healing Lessons

by bearonthecouch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Circle Tower (Dragon Age), Corporal Punishment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whipping Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: "The rules are in place for a reason,” she says. “They're there to keep you safe.”
Relationships: Anders & Wynne (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Healing Lessons

Anders lays on his stomach with his face burrowed into a pillow, and his hands clenched into tight fists. His whole body is tense, and his breathing is harsh and ragged, choked with tears. He brushes his face against his arm, but all that does is spread the tears across his nose and cheek and onto his arm. He clenches his teeth and tries to fight back the waves of pain that spike through his body every time Wynne touches him.

“Try to relax, Anders,” she says soothingly, as she cleans up the blood from his back with a cloth soaked in saltwater. He tries to shoot her a poisonous glare, but all he can manage is a grimace of pain.

“Owww,” he whines, as her fingers brush over an especially raw cut. The cloth is removed, and replaced higher up on his back, near his shoulders.

His whole back feels like it's on fire, every touch feels like the flame is being held to his flesh anew. He tries to pull out of the way of her punishing hands. “Leave me alone,” he mutters.

Wynne tuts at him, and sets aside her cloth for a moment. “Anders, look at me,” she says gently. He turns his head to follow her quiet command, though he wonders why. He's never been good at doing what he's told. “I have to reduce the risk of infection,” she says, slowly and carefully. “Do you understand?”

Anders pushes up onto his elbows, ignoring the screaming agony that tears through his body at the movement. He can't help the cries that fall from his lips, though. He feels like he stops breathing, for a little bit. His head swims. “Ow,” he moans helplessly.

Wynne's eyes are full of sympathy, as she holds his gaze. “I have to reduce the risk of infection,” she repeats. “So what do I have to do first?”

“Clean the wounds,” Anders replies immediately. Wynne nods, giving him a grateful little smile. It does help, her laying the problem out before him, as though it is a simple checklist of tasks to be cleared. It gives him something to focus on. He bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood, as she finishes washing his back.

“You have to cover them,” he tells her. “Loose bandages, with elfroot balm.”

“That's right.” She does has he said, working with calm efficiency while Anders gasps out desperate breaths from behind clenched teeth. The elfroot stings as it works its way into the rips in his skin, and the bandages, light as they are, feel heavy against his still-raw cuts.

“What next?”

“Give the patient something to help them relax.”

Wynne nods. She sets a cup of tea on the table next to Anders's head. “Let it cool, first,” she advises.

“Okay,” Anders agrees. He turns away from her, burying his head into the pillow again. “Thank you,” he mumbles into the fabric.

“You're welcome,” Wynne says with a smile. She combs her fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. His breathing grows calmer, more steady, as she continues the soothing motion. She tucks a loose strand of blond hair behind his pierced ear and shifts on her stool. She reaches over to the table for more elfroot and embrium, and begins crushing them into a powder that Anders can swallow. It will help ease the pain, though he won't be grateful for the taste.

Anders turns his head to watch her. “It isn't fair!” he whines. “Why can't I use magic?” The look on his face is so stricken that Wynne sets down her morter and pestle so she can pay full attention to him. Ah. Not only is he suffering the lashes, it's the first time he's ever been dosed with magebane. No wonder he feels like he can't breathe.

“It's standard procedure,” she says, which isn't comforting at all, but she isn't going to lie to him.

Anders twists away from her again, or at least he tries to before she puts a restraining hand on his arm to prevent him from hurting himself.

“You can't seriously agree with this?!” he protests.

Wynne sighs. “Of course I don't.” She doesn't agree with intentionally inflicting pain on anyone. She doesn't even wield a cane, unlike the First Enchanter and Senior Enchanter Nolan, who is charged with teaching the young initiates.

Wynne knows that Anders has felt the sting of the cane countless times since he arrived at the Tower five years ago, to little effect. He doesn't fear physical pain. She has a feeling that even the whip won't deter him for long. But what she sees settling in him isn't the childish rebelliousness that made it hard for her to keep a straight face when hearing about his antics. What she sees in him now is true anger, dark and dangerous.

“Anders, the rules are in place for a reason,” she says. “They're there to keep you safe.”

Anders has eleven precise lines cutting across his back that tell her to look for a different adjective. What happened to him in the templars' courtyard doesn't belong in any category of safety. She can't justify it.

He's about to protest. She can see the words already forming in his opened mouth. She sighs heavily. “I'm sorry,” she says, because the templars won't. “Nobody else will say it, so I'm saying it. Okay?”

“Fine,” Anders mutters. She thinks he's going to settle, drink his tea and hopefully fall asleep, but he just keeps watching her. “Wynne?” he finally asks, as she sets the elfroot and embrium mixture next to his cup and begins putting away her tools.

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you feel safe?”

She sighs again, and breathes out slow, her heart squeezing tight as she tries to figure out what to say. But she'd already decided she wasn't going to lie. She shakes her head, slightly.

“I knew it,” Anders whispers fiercely.


End file.
